Harry Potter and the Manipulative Old Coot
by Brynmor
Summary: My take on the manipulative Dumbledore stories - from Dumbledore's point of view. Written late at night, not proof-read. Will probably go over it later, if people think it's worth a tidy-up.


"Come in!" Dumbledore called. Oh dear. It seemed there was a teenage tantrum coming up. Harry didn't seem very pleased at all about something. True, he had had a very trying summer, but you'd think he'd be mad at Voldemort. Well, if there was one thing he'd learned from his many, many years teaching, it was that teenagers were very irrational. And Dumbledore was very, very familiar with the symptoms of an angry teen having a crisis. It appeared Harry had gone for the 'trying to appear like an independant adult' approach - his robes were all new, and very expensive. Acromantula silk, in fact. He wasn't sure how these students kept persuading Madame Malkin to make them, because she knew very well they weren't allowed as part of the school uniform. Perhaps he should ask Minerva, or Severus, to talk to her next - they were much better at being firm than he was. Oh dear - the boy was swaggering. He was definitely mad at Dumbledore. He'd even slicked his hair back with his grandfather's potion, and were those dragonhide boots? Such a waste. Really, they didn't even look attractive! My goodness, those were...a lot of rings. Frankly, he was surprised the boy hadn't gone for a piercing. Perhaps that was too much like copying young William - or maybe he was just a little afraid of Molly Weasley. Pity he couldn't call Molly in for backup, he reflected, as he discreetly pushed the 'Gryffindor student' button that let Minerva know that a student of hers was in his office and probably needed a Head of House.

Next to it, the Slytherin button was just as worn down. In comparison, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw looked as though they'd never been used. Frankly, he wasn't even sure if Pomona had ever been summoned like this during her Headship. In the meantime - stall. Oliver Wood had blown half the office up while ranting about Slytherins, Harry getting hurt, Slytherins, unfairness, Slytherins, no one understood him, Slytherins, he deserved that Quidditch Cup, Slytherins, Nimbus 2001s, Slytherins, and Malfoys and Snapes in particular.

His eye fell on the sweeties. Sweets worked! Perhaps his blood sugar was running low. Children liked sweets. Lupin had dished out chocolate, and everyone liked him. He centered himself, resolutely, and prepared to Cheer Up Harry. Deep breath.

"Harry, my boy!" he twinkled manically. "Good to see you looking so well. Lemon drop? Have a seat."

Harry glared at him with his best rebellious teen glare - really, Dumbledore hadn't seen such a glare since...well, since young Nymphadora actually, which wasn't all that long ago. He didn't think that counted though, since she was able to actually transform her face to look like young Snape, who had had the best teenage scowl of the century. He sighed and popped a Lemon Drop into his mouth, when it became apparent Harry was ignoring them in favour of transfiguring his own chair. He'd seen this before, too. For some reason, students just liked the independence of providing their own chair, rather than using the very comfortable chairs he had in his office. He had a theory it was hard to be angsty in a squishy, comfortable paisley chair. Harry had opted to go for an oversized, black leather covered armchair that no doubt would have looked very imposing with a Muggle mob boss sitting in it, but was a little bit lopsided, and the cushions didn't appear to be actually cushioned. Still, it wasn't bad for a 15 year old, and he beamed proudly. That deserved some recognition.

"Well done, Harry! Ten points to Gryffindor, for an excellent attempt. A little more finesse, maybe, but with some practise and coaching I'm sure you'll be re-furnishing the common room in no time."

"Now see here, old man, I'm not your boy. Stop sucking away on your sweeties like the senile old coot you are and get your head outa your ass. I'm not putting up with your games any more!"

Dumbledore sighed. He hated getting cross, he really did. So he frowned sadly, instead. "Harry, I'm afraid whatever you might be feeling, you should always refer to people with respect. I am your Headmaster, therefore I deserve your respect. Five points from Gryffindor."

"That's Mr Potter to you, old man. You haven't earned any respect from me, you've been hiding away from me all summer, like a coward! You won't even look me in the eyes! You left me alone for most of the summer with my horrible relations, with no news! I had no idea what Voldemort was doing, or what was happening in the wizarding world! I come back to find out no one believes me and the entire world thinks I'm insane! And you aren't even defending me, too busy sitting around sucking lemon drops like it's cocaine, doing nothing. No one will tell me what's going on, I got attacked by Dementors and the Ministry tried to expel me and snap my wand. I've had it with your games!"

"MR POTTER!" Ah, Minerva had arrived. Thank goodness, because Dumbledore really did not feel like getting angry, especially at a child who had witnessed a friend's death and Voldemort's resurrection only a few months ago. Really, perhaps Minerva was right about him being too soft-hearted.

"How dare you speak to the Headmaster like that! Apologise at once!"

"Don't tell me what to do! Dumbledore's ruined my life since my parents died! Why didn't he leave me with Sirius, he's my godfather! He left me with my horribly relatives! I know you knew about them, my Hogwarts letter was addressed to the Cupboard Under the Stairs! You sent hundreds of letters before you even thought about sending someone, and then you sent Hagrid! Who didn't even tell me how to get onto the Platform! If you cared about me, why did no one check up on me! All I had was batty old Mrs Figg, who didn't even tell me about magic! The Weasleys pulled the bars off my window in my second year, and no one did a thing! I had to face Voldemort myself because HE didn't set up adequate protections, and YOU wouldn't believe us that it was in danger! No one figured out where the Chamber was! It was left to me! You didn't prevent Crouch from putting my name in the Cup, hell, you didn't even notice Moody wasn't Moody! You're a senile old goat, and not worth my time or respect!"

Oh dear. He knew that look on Minerva's face. Thank goodness she was here, his tools were beginning to rattle ominously. Fawkes, the traitor, had already absconded to the bedroom. An angry McGonagall was not something to take lightly. Especially when she moved as deliberately and firmly as she was now. She closed the door, and swept forward to stand in front of Harry, fixing him with a stern look.

"Mr Potter." she began, quietly, quiet enough that Dumbledore could barely hear her. "As your Head of House, I am in loco parentis. This means that I can tell you what to do, and right now, I am telling you that you will see me in my office at half past seven, tomorrow evening to discuss your punishment. Before you leave this office, you will have issued a sincere, polite apology to the Headmaster. At a later date, when you have had more time to think, you will write a formal apology. Up until the ridiculously corrupt Ministry saw fit to remove him, he was the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot - the high court of law for the country you reside in - and the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, which involves all magical countries. He holds an Order of Merlin, First Class, for Grand Sorcery. For these reasons _alone_ , he deserves your respect. I know for a fact you have a subscription to the Daily Prophet, so there is no reason for you to be unaware of what is going on, officially, in the world. No one knows what Voldemort is doing. Dumbledore is many things, but he is not omniscient. Young boys do not need to be kept updated on every little thing adults do in a war! The Order cannot tell a bunch of teenagers, no matter how entitled they feel, about their every plan. For the record, one does not 'suck on' cocaine. No one knows why those Dementors went rogue. The Headmaster is not your guardian, and he is not responsible for your upbringing. It is thanks to him that he did put you with your relatives, and set up the the blood protections, because Death Eaters were hunting for you as well as the Longbottoms, for revenge. If it were not for those same blood protections, you would have died at Quirrell's hands. By the way, the Stone was in no danger, until you blundered in and retrieved it from the mirror - and even then, it wasn't as simple as that! You would not have been able to leave with the stone, and neither would he. Sirius was an irresponsible young man who did not even have a decent home to take you to - he was living in a ramshackle flat shared with Remus, and while he was a delightful young man, he was also an unemployed werewolf, and Peter - also unemployed. A completely unsuitable environment for a baby. Not to mention, Sirius was assumed the Secret Keeper, and therefore a traitor! A War had just ended, boy, do you really think Dumbledore had nothing better to do than look after a baby? Your closest, indeed, only relatives were the obvious choice to take you in! Why on earth should he check up on your all the time? Petunia made her desire to be left alone quite clear, so he respected that. I watched them for the whole day before you were left there, and while I did not think very highly of them, I saw how they spoiled their boy, how comfortable financially they seemed to be, and I saw nothing that suggested they would keep their nephew in a cupboard. I am very sorry and shocked to hear that, but the letters are addressed automatically, and the setting up of the quills, and the delivery of all magicborn's letters are attended to by House Elves. I handle the Muggleborn letters, and those born to one Muggle parent, as they come from a different registry. Your name was not on that registry. Your aunt and uncle knew of magic, and we had no idea they had not told you. I had assumed they had raised you to think that Hogwarts was unsafe. Your aunt knew full well how to get onto the Platform, and of course it didn't occur to Hagrid, bless his soul, that he would have to tell you. Mrs Figg's job was to keep an eye on the neighbourhood, and the blood protections. I have seen many Muggle houses over the years, and some of them use bars on their windows to keep burglars out. YOU put the stone in more danger than it ever was before, and any blame Dumbledore has, is rewarding you instead of punishing you for interfering and putting yourselves at danger. He did that to cheer you up after Quirrell's death! You were the only Parselmouth, of course you were the only one to find the Chamber. I am aware you are very distraught after the events of last year, but you will give the Headmaster the respect he has earned a hundred times over, get that chip off your shoulder, and apologise now. And take those ridiculous rings off!"

Oh dear. The poor boy looked shell-shocked. Minerva hadn't raised her voice once for the entire lecture, but her voice had been harsh, firm, and had left Dumbledore himself feeling rather chastised on behalf of Harry!

"Um...Sorry Professor, sorry Headmaster, I'm very sorry I said those things, I just...er….well. Sorry Professors. I'll just um. Go. Sorry…"

"Nonsense, Harry!" beamed Dumbledore. "I understand, it has been a very difficult year for you, and I had no idea there was such an issue between you and your family - I thought you would recover faster with the help and support of your family, rather than stuck in Grimmauld Place - it _is_ a dreadfully dreary place, after all! Please, accept my apologies also! And you must understand how important to your safety those blood protections are. As for why I can't meet your eyes - have you ever heard about Legilimency? No? Well, let me explain…"

Harry eventually left Dumbledore's office feeling very ashamed of himself. Why had he felt so self-entitled to knowing everything that was going on? He had behaved like a spoiled child, just because he resented being treated like a child, and not a spoiled one, either! Of course they hadn't known about the Dursley's...he'd never really said, after all, and if they'd known about the cupboard, they'd never have left him there. Really, most people's aunts were good people, Susan Bones's aunt was, Dumbledore had had no reason to think Petunia wouldn't be. And it had been his fault he hadn't read the Daily Prophet properly...he'd just skimmed the headline for attacks and ignored everything else, and then felt ignored when he didn't know what was happening. He'd almost believed Dumbledore had wanted him raised in a poor environment and had ordered his friends to not tell him anything. Well of course secure communication was difficult when using owls, they couldn't say anything about the Order in case an owl got captured. Really, he'd almost thought Dumbledore was a manipulating evil old mastermind…..how could he have spoken to him like that?


End file.
